


anything you want

by nightswatch



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-01
Updated: 2015-05-01
Packaged: 2018-03-26 16:27:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,451
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3857293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nightswatch/pseuds/nightswatch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Courfeyrac works at a bridal wear store. Combeferre comes in with a friend to help her pick a dress.</p>
            </blockquote>





	anything you want

Courfeyrac grinned when he heard the bell jingle. To be honest, he hadn’t been too excited when he’d had to find himself a job, but, as it turned out, working at a bridal wear store was the best thing that had ever happened to him. Seriously, he was _so_ good at his.

He’d always been good at picking out clothes, for himself and for others. Yes, for every occasion. And that included weddings. And proms. And debutante balls.

Courfeyrac straightened his bowtie and walked out of the office, smiling at the group of people waiting in the front. He’d talked to Miss Cosette Fauchelevent on the phone the day before to confirm her appointment and she’d sounded absolutely lovely and excited, which meant that he was also about twice as excited as when he had to sell a wedding dress to someone who sounded like they were out to make his salesman life even harder.

“Hello, everyone,” Courfeyrac said and put on his brightest smile. “Who’s my bride?”

One of the girls gave him an awkward wave. “That would be me. Hi, I’m Cosette.”

“Cosette, it’s lovely to meet you. Who did you bring today?”

“This is Musichetta, she’s here to be brutally honest,” Cosette said, pointing at the girl who was standing between the two guys Cosette had brought. “And that’s Combeferre, who’s hopefully going to deliver an impromptu pro and con list for every dress I try on. He’s really good at those. And Grantaire, he has to tell me I’m pretty no matter how terrible I look.”

Courfeyrac laughed. “Seems like you’re prepared for all eventualities.”

“She sure is,” Combeferre said. He was wearing the ugliest sweater that Courfeyrac had ever seen. And he was totally pulling it off.

When Courfeyrac was done smiling at Combeferre, he turned back to Cosette. She was the most important person today after all. “Alright, let’s get started, shall we? I have two options for you. Either we can start with you telling me what you’re looking for and I’ll find you a couple of choices and then we go from there or you all can take a look around and see if you like anything, which is what I’d recommend if you’re not yet sure what kind of dress you want.”

“Well, I do have a vague idea,” Cosette said, looking around with a shrug. “But I’m definitely open to trying on whatever you suggest.”

“That is an excellent way to go about it,” Courfeyrac said. “Why don’t we take a quick look around first and if there’s anything you want to try on you let me know. Anything you absolutely don’t want? Or something you definitely want?”

Cosette smiled broadly. “I want it to have a poofy skirt. But I don’t want it to be too much, you know?”

Well, it was pretty vague, but Courfeyrac could certainly work with that. “Simple but still poofy, I got you.”

They quickly had a couple of dresses picked out, some that Cosette approved of, some that Courfeyrac had suggested even though they weren’t as poofy as Cosette wanted them, just because he was sure that she’d look amazing in them, and then one that they all agreed had way too many ruffles, but would be hilarious to try on.

Honestly, Courfeyrac had had his fair share of customers who’d wanted to try on the most ridiculous dresses, the ones that no one ever bought and that eventually ended up being on sale and stayed there forever, and it was actually one of the favorite parts of his job.

He ushered Cosette into one of the fitting rooms and told her to pick the dress she wanted to try on first, then he poked his head outside again. “You guys take a seat, we’ll be out in a minute. Feel free to pour yourselves some water.”

Grantaire looked at the bottle of water on the little coffee table with a frown.

“Sorry, but it’s the only thing we’re allowed to serve,” Courfeyrac said quickly. A lot people asked for coffee or champagne, but those weren’t actually good beverages to serve in a store that was full of white dresses. His colleagues had learned that the hard way. “There was a champagne incident a while ago.”

That earned him a snort from Combeferre. Courfeyrac hadn’t previously known that a snort could sound attractive.

Courfeyrac cleared his throat. “ _Before_ I started working here,” he added, shooting a pointed look in Combeferre’s direction before he went back to Cosette. “Have you made a decision?”

“I think I’m going to go for the one that Combeferre and Musichetta picked,” Cosette said, pointing at the dress in question.

Courfeyrac nodded and quickly helped Cosette into the dress. He would have picked it for her too if Combeferre and Musichetta hadn’t beat him to it. He quickly picked up a pair of shoes for her. “You have really tiny feet, but just put these on so you get a vague feeling for it. If you decide on a dress, we can still find you a pair that fits better later on.”

“Thank you,” Cosette said and slipped on the shoes, eyeing the mirror on the opposite wall. “I really like this one.”

“You do look lovely.” And yes, Courfeyrac was encouraged to tell customers that they looked lovely no matter what, but in about ninety-nine percent of the cases he was nothing but sincere about it. “If there’s anything at all you want to try on with it, just say the word. We have veils and tiaras and flower bands. By the way, this is one is ivory, which is something you want to take into account when picking the groom’s dress shirt.”

“I’ll make sure to send him here,” Cosette said with a smile.

“And I’ll make sure to tell my boss that you said that.” Courfeyrac pointed at the door. “Let’s see what your friends think about this one.”

They were greeted by _oh_ s and _ah_ s and Cosette did a little twirl for her friends with the biggest smile on her face and, well, Courfeyrac just really loved this job. If he didn’t end up being a lawyer after all, he’d gladly do this for the rest of his life.

Obviously this wasn’t always the best job in the entire world. Sometimes brides-to-be brought the most obnoxious people, sometimes the brides-to-be were the obnoxious ones. Not that Courfeyrac didn’t understand general pickiness or the _this is one tiny little detail away from my dream dress so I can’t take it and have to keep looking_ mentality, but it really wasn’t his fault that there were too many flowers on a dress, or that there wasn’t enough lace or that it wasn’t the right color.

Cosette didn’t seem to be all that fussed, though. Courfeyrac was glad that she was having a good time – especially with the ruffle dress. That one sadly didn’t make it onto Combeferre’s list. Because, yes, Combeferre was actually writing a list, not one with pros and cons, but one where they all rated the dresses. Except that Grantaire dutifully rated each dress 10/10, even the one with the ruffles, so Cosette instructed them to take if off the list entirely.

“Okay, last one,” Courfeyrac said as he helped Cosette into the last dress. “Unless you want to take another look around.”

“No, I think I’m good,” Cosette said, smoothing down the skirt. “Do you ever get people who like every dress they try on and then don’t know which one to buy?”

“Every dress?” Courfeyrac echoed. “You liked the one with the ruffles?”

“Okay, not that one.” Cosette made a face. “But the first one. And also the third one. And the fourth one. And this one looks great as well.”

“I’m sure your friend Combeferre will whip out an impromptu pro and con list for each one.”

“Right, Combeferre,” Cosette said, winking at him. “He’s handsome, isn’t he?”

“I... suppose so.” Courfeyrac quickly went to fiddle with one of the dresses that Cosette had previously tried on so she couldn’t see how furiously he was blushing. Because Combeferre was attractive. And funny. And if Courfeyrac wasn’t reading things completely wrong, Combeferre was actually flirting with him. Well, he was smiling and doing a thing with his eyes that made Courfeyrac’s heart flutter a little. And if Combeferre asked him if he could slam him against a wall and do god knows what to him then Courfeyrac would be so down.

And that was really not the most appropriate thing to be thinking about right now, so Courfeyrac took a deep breath and took one of the veils he’d picked up while Cosette had been showing off one of the other dresses. “Would you like to try this one on with the dress?”

Cosette nodded and bowed down a little so Courfeyrac could pin the veil to her hair. “He’s single, you know?”

Courfeyrac made the most embarrassing noise. “Wha-at?”

“Combeferre,” Cosette said, smiling indulgently, “is single. Just in case the awkward flirting didn’t make it obvious enough.”

“I’m not...” Courfeyrac trailed off, because if he said he wasn’t interested, he’d definitely be lying.

“Oh,” Cosette said, “I’m sorry, I assumed you were–”

“No, I am,” Courfeyrac interrupted. He wasn’t even sure what he was saying, but this was getting entirely too awkward and Cosette’s friends were waiting. “Let’s see what they think about the last dress, okay?”

Cosette ended up choosing the first one she’d tried on and Courfeyrac got to have a chat with Cosette’s friends while the tailor took her measurements. Well, he mainly talked Musichetta through bridesmaid dresses options while simultaneously asking himself exactly how unprofessional it would be to ask Combeferre for his phone number.

He went home without any phone numbers at the end of the day, but Combeferre had asked him if they also sold regular suits, so maybe, if he was really, _really_ lucky, Courfeyrac had a chance of seeing him again.

First, though, he got to know Cosette’s husband-to-be, Marius, who came in to get a suit and who was lovely but at the same time the most awkward person that Courfeyrac had ever met in his entire life. Courfeyrac sort of wanted to adopt him. Grantaire also came back, sadly not with Combeferre but with his boyfriend Enjolras, who was in a couple of Courfeyrac’s classes.

Combeferre, however, didn’t show up. Obviously Courfeyrac didn’t work at the store every day, so he’d likely missed him. If he’d come back at all.

And Courfeyrac wasn’t moping or anything. Seriously, he wasn’t hung up on a guy he’d met ages ago, because that would be totally unreasonable. Okay, he might have once caught himself thinking that if Enjolras knew Grantaire he probably also knew Combeferre and he could easily get a hold of him if he only asked. But Combeferre had quite possibly forgotten all about him by now. It would be nothing but weird at this point.  

So he needed to accept his fate. He needed to stop having a crush on a guy he’d only seen once. No matter how attractive and intelligent and–

Courfeyrac looked up when the bell at the entrance gave a jingle. They only had one appointment scheduled for today and Jehan was already taking care of that. So a random customer it was. Or, well, not exactly random. Because it was no other than Combeferre.

And for a few very embarrassing seconds Courfeyrac only gaped at him. It took him a moment to remember that he was at work. He cleared his throat. “Good afternoon.”

“Hello.” Combeferre smiled as he stepped up to the counter. “I’m not sure if you remember, but I was here a while ago with–”

“With Cosette, yes, I do remember.” Courfeyrac felt like he was about to hyperventilate, because he wasn’t quite sure how he had got this lucky, but at least he hadn’t completely embarrassed himself by saying something like _how could I forget_. Or, even worse, _I was actually just thinking about you_. “How can I help you?”

“I need a shirt and a matching tie,” Combeferre said. “I’m really bad at combining colors,” he nodded in the vague direction of Courfeyrac’s plaid shirt and bowtie, “and you seem to be pretty good at that.”

“Oh, you’ve definitely come to the right place.”

“Good.” For some reason Combeferre looked relieved. “Actually, I wasn’t so sure if it was okay to come by since I don’t actually need a suit.”

“No worries,” Courfeyrac said and beckoned him to follow him. “I assume your suit is black?”

“It is,” Combeferre said, following at his heels.

“Well, we have several options here. You could go for a simple white shirt and a tie, or you could go for something more colorful or something with patterns, or, if you’re feeling adventurous, maybe I could interest you in a bowtie.”

“I wouldn’t mind something colorful,” Combeferre said, waiting patiently as Courfeyrac showed him combinations and even let him put a bowtie on him, although he was pretty clear about not actually wanting one.

“It looks good, though,” Courfeyrac said. He had a feeling that everything looked good on Combeferre. Every color, every item of clothing in existence – even the grandpa cardigan he’d been wearing when he’d come in.

Combeferre smiled pleasantly. “They look much better on you.”

Courfeyrac made a noise that had supposed to be a _thank you_ but had come out with a hint of complete and utter despair. “Well,” he said, “we also have ties in that color.”

“I’ll take one of those, then.”

“Sure, I’ll get one for you,” Courfeyrac said, quickly ducking back over to the table where the ties were laid out, so Combeferre couldn’t see him making heart-eyes at him. “Is there anything else I can do for you?” he asked once Combeferre had changed back into his cardigan.

“I... no, thank you.” Combeferre smiled sheepishly, his hands buried in the pockets of his jeans. “Actually...”

“Yes?”

“I’m not sure if this is too forward, but I was wondering...” Combeferre trailed off and took a deep breath. “Would you consider going to that wedding with me?”

“You want me to go with you? To the wedding?”

Combeferre laughed nervously. “Maybe we could have coffee first. Or dinner. Honestly, I was really just wondering if you might want to go out with me.”

“Yes, definitely, yes,” Courfeyrac said, nodding eagerly as if saying yes twice hadn’t made it clear enough already. “I’ll give you my number and we can... well, we can have coffee or dinner. Or both. Anything you want.”

Combeferre smiled. “Sounds good to me.”

**Author's Note:**

> I have a [writing blog](http://musains.tumblr.com/) if anyone's interested.


End file.
